We are little past the six week mark of welcoming our foster daughter into our family. And man, what a wild ride it has been. Little S (name withheld for confidentiality) arrived in our home about one week into our new school year, and it has been an absolute whirlwind of trying to get into a new rhythm of juggling 4th grade, 2nd grade, Kindergarten, ongoing therapies, and trying to get to know a new person and help her acclimate to our household. We are exhausted.
There have been so many beautiful moments over the last six weeks. Seeing my kids welcome S into our family and treat her with love and kindness has blessed my heart richly. Watching S learn to trust us—total strangers—and love us so quickly has been humbling. Witnessing God answer countless specific prayers in our very first month of fostering has been such a beautiful reminder to me that He hears us and He is so near.
Yet, amidst all the blessings, fostering has been HARD. We knew it would be, but you don’t truly know what you’ve signed yourself up for until you’re smack in the middle of it. Any time your family grows and you welcome a new member in, there is a period of adjustment as everyone settles into the new normal. Thus far, our family has only experienced this when welcoming a biologically-related newborn baby. And while that is certainly a seismic shift for the family, it pales in comparison with welcoming in a 3 and a half year old that you haven’t known from the start and had the opportunity to connect with as they grow and develop. Turns out, 3-year-olds are already pretty dynamic people with full-blown personalities, opinions, and sin-natures (yes, I said it.) And in the case of fostering, you can add in the layer of coming in with varying degrees of instability and trauma.
As any parent can attest, age 3 for most kids is a stage of peak stubbornness, strong-will, defiance, and boundary-testing. Bringing a new child into our family at this developmental stage has been challenging to say the least. And it’s been challenging for her too, as she’s being asked to adjust to a new home with five new family members and different house rules and expectations. Let’s just say that many days have ended in tears as the strong wills of a 3-year-old and a 36-year-old go toe to toe. S isn’t the only one with a stubborn streak. Guilty.
There have been many nights where my husband and I look at each other and say something along the lines of, “What did we get ourselves into? Did we bite off more than we can chew?” We knew this would be hard, but somehow it’s felt even harder than we expected. My husband hit the nail on the head when he quoted Bilbo Baggins and said, “[we] feel thin, sort of stretched—like butter scraped over too much bread.” I can’t think of a more accurate description for what it feels like to juggle four kids—one being a foster child and one with disabilities.
The last time I felt this overwhelmed, overstimulated, and in-over-my-head was when our youngest, Shep, was a baby and we were in the throes of navigating an unexpected disability and life with three kids aged 3 and under. When I think back to that season, I remember feeling like I didn’t know how we would ever get through it. But we didn’t have a choice. Shep was our son. There was no alternative to the hard life that lay before us. We didn’t choose disability; God chose that path for us, and whether we liked it or not, it was the path we were on.
I think that is why this season of hard has felt different and even more challenging for us—because we did choose it. We said “yes” to foster care knowing we were signing ourselves up for hard. And because this was a choice, the nagging voice of the enemy is always in the back of our minds whispering, “You don’t have to do this. You can walk away from these difficulties. It’s your choice.” And boy, is it that much harder to stay committed when you know you don’t have to.
This reality has had me mulling over the word “choice” and just how much weight it carries for the last several weeks . Having a choice indicates having the power or right to choose something freely. Typically, our human bent is to make choices that serve us and act in our own best interest. It’s no coincidence that one of the biggest social issues of our age has chosen the word “choice” as part of its primary campaign slogan. We live in a world that promotes the idea that “my choice” matters above all else and our best interest is more important than the well-being of others.
To make a choice that willingly sacrifices your wants and needs to serve others is very counter-cultural because it goes against our very normalized sinful human nature. But there was one man who turned the self-centered idea of “choice” on its head and demonstrated the power of choice when you put others at the center.
Jesus Christ demonstrated perfect love and selflessness when He chose to come to earth and die on the cross, taking the punishment we earned so that we could be declared blameless in God’s sight. What is so remarkable about this, is not just the selfless act, but the very choice to do it to begin with. In John 10:17-18, Jesus says, “The reason my Father loves me is that I lay down my life—only to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down and to take it up again.” No one forced Jesus to die in our place. No held him to the cross against His will. Love held him there.
After a night of anguish in the Garden of Gethsemane, knowing the torment that awaited Him, Jesus was betrayed by a friend and violently arrested by Roman guards. Jesus made sure to remind them and all who were present, that his arrest and pending execution was not against His will, but all part of God’s rescue plan for the sinners He loves. In Matthew 26:53-54, Jesus says, “Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels? But how then would the Scriptures be fulfilled that say it must happen this way?” Jesus knew that He was still in control in His darkest hour. He had the power to bypass pain, but he chose not to. He chose love, even when it cost Him everything.
Isaiah chapter 53 is one of the most beautiful prophecies about the promised messiah. I encourage you to take a moment and read through the whole chapter yourself. Verse 7 speaks to our savior’s willingness to endure the cross on our behalf when it says, “He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.” Jesus did not go to the cross kicking and screaming, but with the humility and submission of a little lamb. Jesus did not have His life taken from him, He “poured out his life unto death” (v. 12).
Jesus gave us the masterclass in selflessness and how to put others at the center of our choices. The apostle Paul encourages us to emulate His example. In Paul’s letter to the Philippians, he said:
“In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: who, being in the very nature of God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross!” (Philippians 2:5-8)
God, the creator of the universe, chose to step off his throne, take on human flesh, and die a criminal’s death because He loved us. He willingly said “yes” to hardship, pain, and suffering because He wanted to give us abundant life and eternity with Him.
For the last 6 weeks, choosing to say “yes” to something difficult in order to show love to another (in my very flawed, imperfect way) has been immensely difficult for me. I know this is how Christ has called me to live, but man—is it hard. I cling so tightly to my “rights” and my ability to choose to walk away from hardship whenever possible. Having my own selfishness spotlighted like never before has given me fresh perspective and a whole new level of gratitude for the choice Jesus made on my behalf. I’m slowly wrapping my head around the depth of love required for Jesus to choose to save me when He could have, at any moment, walked away. I’m in admiration of His resolve to stay committed to choosing the hard road, and humbled by the knowledge that I was the reason why. Any small “yes” I give Him in return will never amount to the sacrifice He made for me. May I never stop marvelling at His great love for me and may the choices I make in life reflect His heart, not mine.
